


Warm my hands (and my heart as well)

by Chogiwha (Ac1c)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, Undercover As Prostitute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ac1c/pseuds/Chogiwha
Summary: Sehun is a young member of the police force eager to prove himself, Yixing is an employee at his aunt's restaurant who can't stand to see people suffer, and Chanyeol's just trying to do his damn job.





	1. Chapter 1

Sehun can’t stop himself from shivering as the cold night air hits his exposed skin. The clothes he’s wearing barely cover anything, seeing as the jeans he’s got on have more holes in them than actual fabric and the thing he’s wearing on top can hardly be classified as a shirt. It’s all part of the task he’s been assigned though, meaning he wouldn’t be allowed to change his outfit if he tried.

Two years in the field and all he’s ever done is chase petty criminals and fill out paperwork. This is his first real undercover job and a pretty big one at that. They’ve been trying to catch a serial killer for weeks now; a guy who seems to have taken a specific interest in the local prostitutes. There’s only so much they can achieve by patrolling the streets at night, so when they’d decided on this plan, it had only been the next logical step to take. 

As one of the only people in the precinct able to meet the requirements they’d agreed on beforehand ( _young, relatively innocent looking, capable of defending themselves without weapons if needed_ ), he’d had no choice but to accept. 

He surveys the area, leaning against the wall behind him as he tries to look more natural, as if he does this all the time. There’s no way anyone will fall for his act if he can’t manage to get into character. 

Through the clear device secured in his ear, Sehun can hear his partner laughing. He grumbles to himself, cursing Chanyeol once again for taking such pleasure in his misery. The bastard is probably sitting in a warm car right now, surrounded by the snacks he’s got stored away in the glove compartment. _Stupid Chanyeol and his stupid laugh._ Sehun briefly considers taking out the earpiece, but it would be too big of a risk to take. Annoying as he may be, his partner is still the one looking out for him to make sure he doesn’t end up in a body bag like all the other prostitutes who’d walked these streets before him.

A car approaches and slows down enough for its driver to look Sehun up and down. He offers the stranger a smile that could probably be interpreted as seductive if it wasn’t as forced, mentally preparing himself for a possible confrontation. The car doesn’t come to a full stop, however, and seconds later all Sehun can see are its red lights until the vehicle rounds a corner and disappears completely. 

“Only a few more hours,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his palms together to keep his fingers from freezing. It’s not cold enough outside for him to get sick but he’s tempted to bribe someone into giving him their coat regardless. 

This part of town is pretty deserted, especially at this time of night, save for the occasional drunk office workers passing by and the customers visiting the small restaurant down the street. It’s a place he’s passed by many times before, but he’s never gone inside. Perhaps he could stop by a little earlier tomorrow and grab something to eat before occupying what he now considers to be his ‘spot’.

His stomach rumbles at the very idea of food, and Sehun has to force himself to think of something else before he actually dies of hunger. He really should have eaten more. 

Then again, it only adds to the role he’s been assigned of a poor boy living on the streets. He went over his own fictional backstory several times before he felt confident enough to fully immerse himself in his new identity, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t forget any details or slip up accidentally. Writing down the wrong name on a report could end with him getting reprimanded, messing up while undercover, on the other hand, that could end with his lifeless body being found in some alley. 

Bile rises in his throat as Sehun thinks back to the killer’s victims and the marks that had been left on their skin; unidentifiable symbols carved into flesh with either glass or an exceptionally sharp knife. He closes his eyes for a second and breathes in through his nose, letting the chilly September air fill his lungs and quell the nauseous feeling that’s making his stomach turn. Suddenly, he isn’t as hungry anymore. 

After half an hour, he’s starting to get restless. Only a handful of cars have driven by him so far, and he has yet to be approached. Is it the clothes? No, it can’t be. He made sure to check himself out in the mirror beforehand and even though the clothes had been uncomfortable to wear, even Sehun had had to admit they made him look amazing. 

He sighs and rubs his eyes, aware that he’s in for a long night. At this rate, he’ll never be able to solve this case. After making sure Chanyeol knows he’ll be moving, Sehun moves a bit further down the street, until he reaches a lamp post. Luckily for him, there’s no one around to claim the spot so he settles in, hands in his pockets and shoulders pulled back so the shirt pulls tightly across his chest. 

It doesn’t even take ten minutes before he spots someone walking his way. The person is still too far away for Sehun to make out any distinct features, but he can see the stranger is male. Probably not much older than him, and dressed in black trousers, a white shirt and… are those suspenders?

“Hello stranger,” he drawls, angling his body towards the young men as soon as he’s within hearing distance. “Looking for some fun?” 

“I… No, that’s not-”

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

A part of Sehun hopes this young man isn’t actually looking to pay him for whatever services he’s hoping to receive. The stranger looks pretty harmless, though he knows better than to judge a book by its cover, and it would be a shame if he had to arrest him. 

“Come on, what do you want? You just need to ask for it.” 

The reply he gets isn’t at all what he’d expected. Before Sehun can process what’s happening, a container of food is being shoved in his face, its contents emitting an aroma that has his stomach rumbling even louder than before. 

“Please take this,” the other tells him, using his free hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know it’s not much, but I want you to have it.” 

Sehun is speechless. He takes the food without a word, eyes wide and surprise clearly visible from his expression. It’s only when the boy starts walking away again that he finds the words to thank him. 

“Don’t mention it,” the stranger replies, raising his voice a bit to be heard. “I’d stay, but I have to get back to work. Please stay safe!” 

As he watches the other retreat towards the restaurant down the street, Sehun can’t help but clutch the styrofoam container a bit tighter. He makes a mental note to ask the boy for his name next time he sees him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night finds Sehun in a similar situation, except this time he'd insisted on leaving a bit earlier so he’d still have the chance to stop by the restaurant down the street. He’d expected some complaining from Chanyeol, but all he’d gotten when he’d voiced the request was a curious look and a barrage of questions. It had taken some serious threats and promises of free food to get him to shut up.

Sure, making friends wasn’t part of the job description but having connections could prove to be beneficial, so in theory, no one would be able to comment on Sehun’s decision to look for the mysterious boy. 

“Go on,” Chanyeol urges, pushing the driver’s seat back so he can stretch his legs. He turns his head to the side and looks Sehun in the eyes, a playful smile turning the corners of his lips upwards. “Go get your hot restaurant guy. Try to keep the stupid decisions to a minimum.” 

It’s only thanks to years of friendship that Sehun’s able to pick up on the underlying concern behind Chanyeol’s words. Above all, it is his job to watch out for his partner’s safety, meaning that he has to be the voice of reason at times instead of going along with all of Sehun’s dumb ideas. Not that he wouldn’t like to. 

“I really wish they’d at least let me wear a jacket,” he complains while reaching for the door handle. “If I freeze to death out there, I’m coming back to haunt their asses.” 

“If you do, give me some sort of sign so I know it’s you. Imagine all the money I could make pretending to cleanse homes to get rid of your annoying spirit. I bet I’d even get paid double if they have to listen to your whining for long enough.” 

Sehun doesn’t even bother to dignify Chanyeol’s ramblings with an answer. 

The walk to the restaurant is rather long since they can’t afford to park the car too close and risk being seen together. Sehun uses the opportunity to survey the area, categorizing all the little details and people he passes. Most go out of their way to avoid crossing paths with him, even going as far as to cross the street. Sehun would probably do the same if he was in their position. This part of town is known for its territorial gangs after all, and though it’s quite clear from his outfit and makeup that he’s (supposed to be) a prostitute and not a gang member or a pimp, it’s far safer to avoid any and all risks. 

Tonight’s assignment is the same as last night’s; observe and lay low, at least until the locals have gotten used to his presence. It wouldn’t do much good to go around asking questions now. It would only draw unwanted attention. 

It’s much warmer inside of the small restaurant, and Sehun immediately lets out a pleased sigh when the goosebumps on his skin start to disappear. The atmosphere is welcoming and more than a little out of place in an area like this one. Several interesting decorations catch his eye as he walks towards an empty table, varying from hand-painted vases to pictures of who he assumes to be the owners. 

There’s no sign of the person he’s looking for but that doesn’t stop him from settling in and picking up a menu. It’s fairly simple, a combination of simple but tasty meals you’d find in traditional Korean and Chinese kitchens. Both servers seem hesitant to approach him and what they think of Sehun is clear from the way they look at him, but one of them takes his order nonetheless. 

It’s awkward, knowing everyone is eyeing him warily and judging the way he’s dressed and the profession they think he has. It makes Sehun feel bad for the people who actually have to stand outside for hours in the cold, waiting for someone who’ll pay for their next meal or a place to stay for the night. Even if he can’t help them out financially, he’s damn well going to do his best to make sure they don’t end up as just another nameless body in the morgue.

To his surprise, his food isn’t by the girl who took his order. The boy who brought him the container of food yesterday looks equally taken aback but recovers faster than Sehun would have expected him to. 

“Here you go, sir.” He’s the first one who hasn’t looked down on Sehun or treated him as an inferior member of society. Apparently, the boy is just full of surprises. 

‘Yixing’, his name tag reads. The name suits him. 

“Thank you,” Sehun replies, mirroring Yixing’s friendly smile. He pauses for a moment before he adds: “Thank you for yesterday as well.” He’s careful enough to lower his voice, not sure if the free food has to remain a secret from Yixing’s boss and colleagues or not. “You really shouldn’t have done that but I really appreciate it.” 

His wallet is back in the car with Chanyeol, but there are enough loose bills in the pocket of his jeans to cover today’s and yesterday’s meal. Yixing’s smile turns into a frown when he sees Sehun reach for the money. He shakes his head, refusing to take the money. 

“Keep it,” he insists, taking a small step back so Sehun can’t tuck the bills into the apron he’s got tied around his waist. “It’s on the house.” 

“I can’t possibly accept another free meal, especially when you’re the one paying for it. Take half then, I don’t need your pity.” 

Yixing seems to consider the idea for a moment before he accepts, counting the money and pocketing some of it. It’s not nearly enough to be half of the amount Sehun had handed to him. “I don’t pity you,” he tells him, stressing the words to indicate he’s being serious. “I just don’t want you to… Nevermind.“ 

Sehun waits for Yixing to continue speaking, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. 

“There must be something I can do to pay you back for the food.” 

At this, Yixing’s smile returns. 

“You could tell me your name.”


	3. Chapter 3

_You could tell me your name._

Sehun barely stops himself from blurting out his real name, the reply already on the tip of his tongue. He mentally curses himself for nearly slipping up. They’d gone over his alias countless times, and yet here he was, about to give away his real identity to a boy he barely knew just because he’d paid for his meals. 

“Minjun,” he says instead, forcing himself to look Yixing in the eyes as he does so. The nervous habit of looking down whenever he’s lying has gotten Sehun into trouble in the past, so these days, he works hard to repress it. It’s a generic name, among the most popular ones in South Korea, making it a somewhat believable cover. People who don’t know his fictional profession won’t think much of it, and those who do will most likely assume it’s a fake name he chose for himself to keep his real identity hidden. Either way, it’s one of the safest options. If someone were to ask around, they would have great difficulty finding him without knowing his (fake) last name. 

“Nice to meet you, Minjun-ssi,” Yixing replies. The honorific is somewhat surprising considering their situation, but Sehun writes it off as professionalism. “I’m Yixing.” 

Emboldened by the relative anonymity his cover is providing him, Sehun doesn’t hesitate to ask Yixing for his age, nor does he waste time in pointing out their age difference when he’s gotten his answer. 

“I’m nineteen, so you’re my hyung, then,” he says, taking notice of the way Yixing’s eyes widen at the information. It’s a lie, seeing as Sehun is twenty-two. This means he’s still younger than Yixing, fresh out of the academy but three years older than he’s making himself out to be. Thankfully, he looks young enough to pull of the lie without raising suspicion. 

The food on his plate is almost gone by now, and a quick look at the clock hanging on the wall behind him tells him he should really get going. Yixing is still frozen in his seat when Sehun downs the last of his drink, his work completely forgotten by now. 

“Well then, I’d better get going. It was really nice meeting you, Yixing-Hyung.” Sehun speaks to him as if they’ve known each other for years, effortlessly slipping into the flirty persona he’ll have to play for the rest of the night. It’s almost scary how easy it’s become for him to flip that switch in his head and become someone else entirely. “Maybe I’ll see you around?” 

He gets up to leave, but fingers wrap around his wrist before he can walk out, tugging him back until he’s facing Yixing again. For a moment, they just stand there in silence, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Don’t go.” 

Sehun’s gaze drops from the other’s face to the hand still holding his wrist. As if he’s just now realized what he’s doing, Yixing lets go immediately. “I-I’m so sorry,” he starts, stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. He doesn’t stop apologizing until Sehun holds up a hand and tells him it’s okay. “It’s cold outside,” Yixing continues after a second or two have passed, wringing his hands. “You’ll get sick if you stay out all night dressed like that.” 

“Dressed like what?” Sehun fires back, quirking an eyebrow. His shirt pulls even tighter across the expanse of his chest when he puts his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I think this is a perfectly good outfit, don’t you?” He resists the urge to cover himself when Yixing looks him up and down. 

Without a word, the other disappears, leaving Sehun standing on his own in the middle of the restaurant. He’s back before Sehun can even think about walking out, this time holding a leather jacket. “Here.” Yixing hands him the jacket, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t know if it will fit you, but at least it will keep you warm. It even matches your style.” It’s said teasingly, worded as an order rather than a request but with room for rejection on Sehun’s part. 

The jacket does look pretty nice, and if he doesn’t zip it up, it will still show enough skin to look appealing… 

Sehun accepts the offered garment before his brain can tell him otherwise. “You know,” he says, grinning as he slips it on, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were up to something. After all, no one gives away so many things without expecting a favor in return.” It’s meant to be a joke, but there’s something inside of him that reminds Sehun this could very well be the reason behind Yixing’s kindness. Has he been trying to butter him up all this time? Perhaps he is indeed expecting Sehun to pay him back in some way. 

“No!” The sudden outburst attracts the attention of the customers around them. Yixing’s cheeks have turned a bright red by now; a result of both the frustration he’s feeling and the dozens of eyes on him. “My apologies,” he says, bowing to the customers with a sheepish smile. His lips are pressed together in a thin line when he turns back to Sehun again. “I promise you I don’t expect anything in return.” His expression looks pained, as if he wants to say something but is unable to. “You must know that the streets around here aren’t the safest. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

Sehun opens his mouth to assure Yixing that he won’t, that he’s more than capable of looking out for himself, but the other continues talking before he can get a word out. 

“When my aunt and I moved here, this was a good neighborhood but lately, things have been happening around here. Bad things. I don’t think I could stand to see someone get hurt again.” 

Yixing’s smile is back in place as he leads him to the door and bids him goodnight. Sehun echoes the sentiment, but his mind is elsewhere. 

What exactly did Yixing mean by ‘ _again_ ’?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yixing... I promise the next chapter will explain why he's so determined to make sure Sehun stays safe! Also yay me for updating two fics in one day :') If you ever feel like screaming to me about this story or kpop/random things in general, don't hesitate to hit me up on Tumblr!


	4. Texts: part I

[](https://ibb.co/i1NnMm)

[](https://ibb.co/imC7nR)

[](https://ibb.co/d9SbE6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to do when you don't have time to write during exams but want to keep the story going... Thank you for your patience!


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey everyone!

Sorry to disappoint, but this is unfortunately not a new chapter. Some of you may know that I'm in my last year of college at the moment and things are insanely busy. As much as I would love to keep updating regularly and explore this story and its characters even further, I simply can't afford to spend a lot of time writing anymore and the last thing I want to do is upload half-assed chapters.

I'm incredibly grateful for all the support and love this story has received so far, and I hope you will understand my decision to put the story on hold for at least a few weeks because I want to give you the best I can offer.

This story does **not** end here and it will be continued, only with a slightly longer break in between chapters.

Once again, thank you so much for all your wonderful comments and patience, it means the world!

♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, trying to prepare 40 hrs worth of lessons in 2 weeks: but I have so many fic ideeeaaas (the struggle is real)


	6. Chapter 6

There are no unread messages on his phone when Yixing wakes up. The memories of last night come flooding back almost immediately, replaying in his head. He isn't ashamed of having texted the number again, fully aware that setbacks are a normal part of the process, but it does concern him that this boy, whom he's only known for a few days, was able to push him over the edge. He had been doing so well, only reading through the occasional conversation when he felt particularly lonely or sad, yet Minjun had disturbed that precious balance in the blink of an eye. 

With a sigh, Yixing detangles his legs from the sheets and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. It's quite chilly in the room, he notes, absentmindedly turning off his alarm clock. If only he had enough money in his savings account to move to an apartment with a better heating system. As he ponders the possibilities of moving to a better part of town in the far future, Yixing can't help but think of Minjun, who probably doesn't even have a decent place to sleep. He knows he shouldn't let it get to him, but it's impossible not to let worry consume his mind, not when he knows all too well what it's like living on the streets. 

Perhaps Junmyeon was right to tell him off. After all, he chose to get involved last time, and look where that got him.

It's been difficult, allowing himself to open up to people again. It had only taken a few days to slip back into his usual cheery persona, putting on a mask so the outside world wouldn't see what was really going on inside his head. How the pieces of his shattered heart were digging into every nerve they could reach. Establishing real emotional connections, however, that didn’t come as easily.

Thinking about it too much hurts his head, so in the end, he decides to drop the subject. At least for now. 

By the time he makes it to the restaurant, freshly showered and dressed in his usual uniform, Yixing is feeling a bit more like an actual functioning human being again. He isn't scheduled to work today, meaning no one is expecting him to be here, but Yixing figures it will be a good way to clear his mind. 

His aunt greets him with a fair amount of surprise. She's used to Yixing coming over to help out when they're understaffed, yet this is the first time he has shown up to work on his day off. He can tell from the look on her face that she would like to pull him aside and ask what possessed him to sacrifice one of his few vacation days, but she doesn't get the chance to do so. Yixing breathes a sigh of relief when one of the servers calls her over and he's able to duck into the breakroom. He knows he won't be off the hook for long, but it's something. 

As he chops up vegetables for his aunt's signature stew, Yixing's mind starts to drift again. His hands move on autopilot while he allows his mind to wander, thinking back to the first time he found himself making his way into this part of town without having planned to.

_The cold winter air envelops him the second he steps outside. It only takes a minute or two for his fingers to start going numb, and even less for his cheeks and nose to turn red. He's dressed in a jacket that's far too thin for this kind of weather, imitation leather already starting to come off in some spots. It used to embarrass him, having to walk around in clothes that look like they've seen better days, but Yixing has stopped caring by now. He counts himself lucky he was able to find a cheap scarf in the thrift store, otherwise he'd probably be huddled in a ball right now in an attempt to preserve some warmth. For the fifth time in half a minute, he wriggles his fingers to keep the blood flowing._

 _Yixing keeps walking until he reaches the building he's supposed to visit tomorrow, carefully studying the sign hanging above the large window. The restaurant looks just like he remembers it from the times he used to visit it when he was just a child. It's closed now, completely dark and empty inside, yet if he tries hard enough, Yixing can still imagine the warm lighting and the sound of his aunt's laugh echoing off the walls whenever one of the servers told a joke._

_He doesn't know how long he stands there, unmoving, until his ears pick up on something. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact location of the sound at first, but as it repeats itself again, Yixing starts moving towards its source. It brings him to the alley behind the restaurant, where he finds a boy around his age, dressed in clothes similar to his own. The boy, however, isn't wearing a scarf and through the rips in his jeans, Yixing can see that his skin has started to turn a blue-ish red. A voice in the back of his mind tells him to walk away, to mind his own business because it's hard enough caring for himself already._

_He considers the option for a few seconds before dismissing it entirely._

_Slowly, as if he's approaching a wild animal, Yixing makes his way towards the stranger. He stops when he's about three feet away from the figure huddled against the wall, only now taking note of the violent tremors wracking the boy's body. It's a wonder he hasn't frozen to death yet._

_"Are you okay?"_

_The question seems to startle the boy, judging by the way he instantly tries to push himself even further against the side of the building. He opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by a violent coughing fit, which forces him to bend in half from the force of it. Without thinking, Yixing moves to steady him. He's about to repeat his question when his eyes lock with the boy's, finding them unfocused._

_Yixing gets a split second to prepare before the boy's eyes roll back into his head and he's forced to support the sudden dead weight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for everyone who stuck with this story even though I rarely have time to update it. Your kudos, comments and general support mean the world <3 
> 
> _Can you guess who the mysterious boy is?_


	7. Chapter 7

“You should really go grocery shopping sometime soon. There’s nothing edible left in the fridge and I’m pretty sure I just saw something _move_ in there.”

It’s blissfully silent for a moment while Sehun’s newly assigned roommate waits for a reply. It’s short-lived, however, because as soon as Chanyeol realizes that Sehun has started dozing off again and isn’t planning on acknowledging the overall abominable state of their food supply, he grabs the nearest object and tosses it in the general direction of the couch. A muffled thud tells him the ladle has hit its target.

“It’s your apartment too,” Sehun grumbles, using a pillow to shield his face in case Chanyeol should decide to send any more kitchen supplies flying his way. “Why are you complaining anyway? I did the grocery shopping last time, so it’s your turn now.” He lowers the pillow far enough to spot the annoyed look on his roommate’s face.

“Are you forgetting who’s been doing the dishes every night for the past week?” Chanyeol crosses his arms over his chest, clearly fed up with Sehun’s reluctance to keep them from starving to death. “Once you start cleaning up after yourself, I’ll start going to the store.”

Chanyeol’s reply leaves no room for argument, but that certainly doesn’t stop Sehun from trying to weasel his way out of having to leave the apartment. They go back and forth like that for five more minutes, bickering about who should take up which household chores. Sehun’s just started a monologue about the importance of airing out the bedrooms every morning when Chanyeol finally decides he’s had enough and switches to a more drastic approach. He silently makes his way towards the couch and doesn’t hesitate to wrap his fingers around Sehun’s ankles as soon as he’s within reach, pulling him out from underneath a mountain of blankets. Sehun scrambles to take hold of the couch’s armrest, but he’s too slow. A second later, his ass collides painfully with the floor. 

“Don’t forget to pick up a carton of eggs while you're at it. I'm planning on making scrambled eggs tomorrow morning.”

Sehun resists the urge to kick the smirking bastard in the kneecap.

That’s how Sehun finds himself standing in the produce aisle of the local grocery store fifteen minutes later, debating on whether he should go for regular milk or bring home soy milk for a change. He knows Chanyeol absolutely hates the stuff, insisting it’s _‘imposter milk trying to trick you into thinking it’s actually good’_ , so they’ve been sticking to regular for the past two weeks. Sehun bypasses their usual brand and doesn’t hesitate to drop two cartons of soy milk into the shopping cart. 

He’s all too aware they should count themselves lucky that they don’t have to pay for the apartment out of their own pockets, but it’s difficult to be grateful when you and your roommate are constantly getting on each other’s nerves. It was bound to happen eventually though, as two people can only spend so much time together before tensions start to arise. On the other hand, Sehun has to admit that despite all of this, he would still trust Chanyeol with his life. They’ve been partners for so long that he can’t even begin to imagine being in this situation with anyone else. 

The last shred of annoyance instantly leaves him when he thinks back to all the times Chanyeol has been there for him over the last couple of years. Whether he was having a hard time during training or just needed someone to talk to, he knew he would always be able to count on Chanyeol. There have been plenty of fights in the past, of course. Once, things got so heated that Sehun ended up with a broken nose and Chanyeol with a split lip, but even physical pain hadn’t stopped them from talking things out and reconciling in the emergency room. 

The trip down memory lane puts Sehun in a considerably better mood, and by the time he’s paid for the groceries and started his walk back to the apartment, he’s smiling again. According to the schedule he’s received from Baekhyun, their CO, it’s Yixing’s day off today, so he doesn’t think twice about taking the shortest route home. He has purposefully avoided bringing back more than two shopping bags, as it would look a bit suspicious for him - or rather for the character he’s playing - to be walking around the neighbourhood with an abundance of groceries. He's living the life of a poor teenager now, and that means being frugal for a change.

Out of habit, he turns to look through the restaurant’s large windows when he walks past the building in question. It’s a surprise when he locks eyes with Yixing, yet Sehun recovers quickly enough, offering the other a polite nod. He’s tempted to step inside and ask Yixing what possessed him to come into work on his day off, but he knows he can’t. Instead, he tears his gaze away from the restaurant and hurries back to the apartment. 

Chanyeol’s in the shower when Sehun gets home, and though the offer of fresh food seems to pacify him, he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for his roommate’s _‘crazy conspiracy theories’_. Sehun isn’t about to give up that easily, however, so while Chanyeol rinses off, he’s forced to listen to what Sehun refers to as his ‘masterlist of possible reasons for Yixing to sacrifice his only day off’.

Some ideas are plausible _“Maybe his aunt is planning on retiring soon and he’s trying to convince her to leave the restaurant to him.”_ , some are rather far-fetched _“Perhaps he has a debt to pay off to one of his coworkers after having borrowed money from them.”_ , and some are just plain ridiculous.

“You can’t possibly be serious about this.” Chanyeol pushes the shower curtain aside so he can look at Sehun. His eyebrows drawn together and the corners of his mouth are slightly turned down, an expression he reserves solely for when he's subjected to Sehun’s most stupid explanations or ideas. 

“I’m telling you,” Sehun insists, not at all discouraged, “he may be involved in some shady business. No one is **that** diligent. Besides, it would explain so much, don’t you think? Why would he be so kind to me, someone he’s never met before, if he isn’t up to something? I say we keep an eye on him, just to be sure.” 

Chanyeol sighs, but even he can’t deny Yixing’s behavior has been a bit odd, especially for someone living in this part of town. He’s eighty-five percent sure none of their building’s residents would bat an eye if someone on their floor were to disappear or die. “Fine,” he concedes, making grabby hands at Sehun until the other hands him the bottle of shampoo on the sink. “I’ll have someone look into it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a pain trying to get back into writing, but I'm back! I've only got 3 presentations and 1.5 months left to go until graduation, so I'll hopefully be able to start updating more frequently again.


	8. Texts: part II

[](https://ibb.co/ce7jgy)

[](https://ibb.co/imuEyd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but ya girl graduated and is currently on holiday so I've got to make do with shitty hotel wifi and my phone. Here's a lil something to let you know this fic isn't dead and I'll hopefully be back to posting full chapters soon :) (updated since I forgot the 2nd image like a true idiot)


	9. Chapter 9

On any other day, Sehun’s appearance may have made Yixing feel better. Every time he lays eyes on the other, it serves as a reminder that his newfound acquaintance is still alive and doing fairly well, at least considering the circumstances. Today, however, with anxiety already weighing down his every move, it does nothing to soothe his nerves. He’s just going through the motions, following a routine he committed to memory within the first month of working at the restaurant, yet Yixing feels off-balance. From the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen to the low hum of people conversing in the restaurant, even the faintest sound is enough to set him on edge. It’s too much. His brain processes the feeling of the apron tied snugly around his waist, the coarse texture of the dishcloth in his hand and how smoothly it glides over the table as he removes crumbs and sauce stains, but instead of filing it away as ordinary observations, it sets off alarm bells in his head. Suddenly, the apron is too constricting, the polished surface of the table too blinding as it reflects the light.

Yixing stumbles through the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the other workers. They are, thankfully, too caught up in the preparations for the oncoming lunch rush to notice the sweat dripping down his temples or the panicked look in his eyes. The backdoor still creaks as he pushes it open, but he finds no comfort in the familiar sound. He begins to claw at his shirt the moment the fresh air hits him, hoping that pulling it away from his chest will allow him to breathe easier. It doesn’t. It’s as if his ribcage constricts every time he inhales, tightening more and more until his lungs are crushed by the pressure and the only thing he can manage are short, desperate gasps as he attempts to take in enough air. His eyes dart around the alley, moving from the trash bags against the wall to the half-smoked cigarettes on the ground without ever truly focusing on anything. 

_He’s on his knees in the alley behind his aunt’s restaurant, desperately trying to observe the almost non-existent rise and fall of the stranger’s chest. Leaving him now is out of the question, but unfortunately, Yixing’s knowledge of first-aid is limited to applying band-aids and what kind of soup will cure a cold the fastest. There’s nothing he can do except call for an ambulance. While trying to slide his phone out of the pocket of his pants, he accidentally jostles the boy’s head, earning him a weak groan. It’s not the most reassuring sound, yet Yixing is relieved to hear that the other’s still capable of making any sound at all. “Don’t worry,” he tells him, rushing to unlock his phone, “the ambulance will be here soon.”_

_“No!” The boy’s eyes are unfocused, but he still attempts to reach for Yixing’s phone. “D-don’t!”_

_Yixing raises his arm, trying to keep his phone out of reach. It’s difficult, as the kid seems determined to stop him from calling for help and he can’t exactly back away without moving his legs out from under the other’s head. “You need help,” he insists, “Professional help.” He hopes it will pacify him, but it only results in more struggling._

_“You don’t understand,” the boy replies, pausing in between the words like he’s trying to find the energy to form a complete sentence. “I haven’t got-“ He halts again, body lurching to the side as he falls into another coughing fit. With growing horror, Yixing watches as blood and spittle lands on the concrete._

_“You haven’t got what?”_

_“Money.”_

_And isn’t that just too fitting; one broke teenager trying to convince another to accept help he can’t afford to – literally – save his life. Yixing figures that if he doesn’t have insurance, there’s no chance in hell this stranger who looks like he’s been living on the streets will have anything of the kind. He deletes the number on the screen, his lip caught between his teeth as he debates his next move. There are dirt and filthy water soaking into his worn-down jeans, he’s surrounded by food waste and discarded cigarettes, and there’s a boy nearly dying in his arms. Those facts alone are enough to justify his decision. “Don’t worry,” he says, scrolling through his contacts, “I’ve got an idea.” After a short moment of hesitation, Yixing presses the call button. The other is starting to get restless again, so he talks to him while he waits for the person on the other end to pick up the phone. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. I know someone who’ll be able to help you.”_

“-xing?” At first, it’s just a faint echo, but as the sound of footsteps draws closer, it becomes increasingly clear that someone is shouting his name. Even though he’s still got his eyes squeezed shut, Yixing can sense the other man’s presence as he crouches down in front of him. “Yixing?”, the familiar voice repeats, and a moment later he can feel strong hands gripping his shoulders. “Are you okay?” 

_**“Are you okay?”** He’s still got one foot in the car, but Junmyeon’s already firing off questions left and right. Not that Yixing had expected anything else. He had called the other man in a panic after all, and he imagines he would have been in a similar state of distress if he had been the one to pick up the phone at this time of night. _

_“I’m fine,” he assures his friend. His voice only trembles a bit, and he’s proud of the fact that he’s been able to keep it together until now. Neither of them speaks as they carry the boy to Junmyeon’s car. He’s slipping in and out of consciousness again, which is a sign that they need to act fast. Yixing slides into the back seat first, leaving Junmyeon to keep the boy from falling over. He reaches out, ready to help maneuver the other into the car, but his friend seems to have frozen in place. “Myeon?”, Yixing prompts, hoping to spur him into action._

_Outside the car, Junmyeon brushes the hair out of the boy’s eyes, his breath catching in his throat. “My god,” he whispers, trying not to think of how disturbingly easy it is to support the other’s weight with only one arm. “What happened to you, Jongin?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, here's the photoset that prompted the idea for this fic: https://lq-yixing.tumblr.com/post/164377835927
> 
> I've also got an idea for a greek gods AU, so that's been filed away for when I get the chance to write more often


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